


Swearing Off Sewers

by august_anon



Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Bathing/Washing, Bathtubs, M/M, Tickling, ticklish geralt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:27:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29091999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/august_anon/pseuds/august_anon
Summary: After a nasty fight with a zeugl, Jaskier tries to help Geralt wash the stench of the sewers off. Unfortunately, Geralt is a little too sensitive for that.Warning: This is a tickle fic!!
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Kudos: 59





	Swearing Off Sewers

**Author's Note:**

> i literally meant to post this last saturday, and then had multiple reminders throughout the week to post it, but brain really just went “no<3″ huh lol. Anyways, fic! Hopefully i really only take a week next time instead of two lol
> 
> ALSO, this fic is based off this ask from an age and a half ago. I finished it last year and I don’t remember ever posting it? I thought I had, and maybe I did and didn’t realize it, but I went through all my posted witcher fics and couldn’t find it so I am posting it lol
> 
> "Part 1: As usual, Jaskier was helping Geralt bathe but this time he decided to pamper Geralt a bit more and thought that his feet needed to be scrubed because Geralt was legit knee deep in mud and guts from the monster he just killed and that is just disgusting like just rinsing them wasnt gonna cut it, so Jaskier grabbed the scrubbing brush and Geralt's foot and as soon as he brushed down, Geralt full on jumped in the water and pretty much screamed fuck and tried to yank his foot away but  
> Part 2: Jaskier who was a bit pissed that now he’s all wet decided that this is gonna be payback didn’t let him go and Geralt sank back in the tub that was only half full now and was covering his face with his hands trying not to screech because that is not what witchers do and still yanking his leg back and kicking the other but trying to be careful because he didn’t wanna hurt Jaskier (this turned out a lot longer than I thought I am so sorry haha)"

A zeugl.

Geralt had to fight a damn  _ zeugl _ .

He waded through garbage, waste, shit, and who the hell  _ knows _ what else, just to have it all sloshed up against him, into his face and under his armor, during the fight. He smelled worse than an outhouse, the people on the city streets giving him a wide berth when he eventually emerged from the sewers.

Wider than usual, at least.

But frankly, Geralt had no qualms about that. He didn’t want to smell like fucking  _ zeugl  _ any longer than he had to, and people practically  _ racing _ out of his way meant that he could get back to the inn that much faster and call for a bath. Preferably one that was  _ warm _ , after wading through ice-cold shit for the past couple hours.

Perhaps it was nearing time to head to Kaer Morhen for the winter.

Geralt was surprised the innkeep even let Geralt in. In fact, he looked like he wanted to kick Geralt out until he was more  _ decent _ , but instead he led Geralt up to a room where a bath had already been prepared. Jaskier turned as he entered, wrinkling his nose at the stench Geralt dragged in with him.

Jaskier brought a hand up to pinch his nose closed and gave Geralt a once-over. “Next time you fight a zoo-zoo,” Jaskier said, “we’re rinsing you off outside first before your bath.”

“Zeugl,” Geralt corrected.

“No matter,” Jaskier said. “Get in the bath before I decide to do that anyway, how did you even make it through the  _ streets _ .”

“Far more easily than usual,” Geralt grumbled, stripping off his armor as best as he could with his fingers still slick from waste.

Geralt sank into the bathwater with a sigh, his frozen-cold and sore muscles finally finding some respite. He’d spend the next week in the tub, if he could.  _ Last _ time he fought a zeugl, he nearly had, and probably would have if he could. Vesemir still teased him about spending half a day in the bath, scrubbing away.

Jaskier made a dramatic retching sound. “These boots have seen their last days, Geralt. We ought to just throw them out the window right now, there’s no saving them.”

“They’re fine,” Geralt lied. Even with the coin from the zeugl job, he couldn’t wisely afford spending the coin on new boots.

“They are absolutely  _ not _ , your feet were swimming in shit and piss, look at these! You can’t tell me you’re going to wear these again.”

It wasn’t like Geralt  _ wanted _ to, he did rather enjoy being clean.

Jaskier made direct eye contact with him and picked up his boots with a ripped up, old rag. Geralt narrowed his eyes, hoping to silently threaten Jaskier into obeying. Jaskier dangled the pair of shoes out the window.

Geralt darted forward in the bath. “Jaskier, don’t you dare--”

Jaskier dropped the boots, and the now-soiled rag along with them.

Geralt growled. “And how do you expect me to walk around, now?”

Jaskier placed his hands on the edges of the tub and leaned over so he loomed over Geralt. “I will  _ personally _ go and buy you a new pair in the morning, calm down. Now, let’s get this  _ filth _ off you.”

Geralt sat with a scowl on his face as Jaskier scrubbed him down  _ thoroughly _ , the water turning murky with all the muck. He scrubbed Geralt until his normally-dull skin was pink and pristine, lathering soaps into his hair with his fingernails, the strands finally turning white again under his touch.

Jaskier kept up his usual chatter the whole time, but most of it went in one ear and out the other. Geralt simply allowed himself to enjoy the warm water and the feeling of finally being  _ clean _ again. And maybe enjoying the fingers scratching his scalp and combing through his hair, too. Not that he’d admit that

And then, when Geralt was boneless and relaxing back in the bath, eyes closed, he heard a splash and calloused fingers wrapped around his ankle, pulling his foot from the bath, yanking him deeper into the water in the process. He shot a glare up at Jaskier.

“Don’t give me that look,” he said, replacing the filthy rag in his hand with a scrubbing brush. “You were sloshing around in who the hell  _ knows _ what, there’s no way you’re getting away just rinsing off these feet.”

Geralt grunted, but that grunt quickly turned into a loud, deep shout of, “ _ Fuck _ !” as Jaskier dragged that terrible brush down the length of his foot. He jerked in the bath, the murky water sloshing and splashing up to soak Jaskier, the bard himself standing dumbstruck and dripping and  _ glaring _ .

“And just  _ what _ was that?”

“Nothing,” Geralt growled, trying unsuccessfully to take his foot back. He didn’t want to tug too hard and  _ hurt _ Jaskier, but his grip was too strong otherwise.

Jaskier tightened his grip, tugging Geralt back toward him again. “That was  _ not _ nothing, and now I’m  _ wet _ . What do you have to say for yourself, hm? You best behave when I’m trying to help, you big grouch, now hold  _ still _ .”

Jaskier dragged the brush down his foot again, and Geralt couldn’t help the deep yelp that escaped from his lips, clapping a hand over his mouth and tugging at his leg once more, though this time far more frantically. Jaskier grumbled and tightened his grip again, going so far as to pin Geralt’s ankle under his arm to get the leverage he needed to scrub the gunk off.

“Ah,” Jaskier said after a moment of Geralt’s barely-controlled squirming, smile evident in his voice even if Geralt couldn’t see his face. “I see what’s happening, now. A bit ticklish, hm?”

“No,” Geralt lied, voice strangled.

Jaskier paused and turned to give Geralt an unimpressed look. “You, my dear witcher, are a  _ terrible _ liar.”

And then Jaskier pushed the brush deeper against Geralt’s skin and started scrubbing once more, and Geralt couldn’t hold himself together any longer. He snorted and let out deep, rumbling laughter, making every effort to keep it quiet. He buried his face in both hands, sinking deeper into the tub. The witcher mutagens prevented him from blushing, but Geralt felt himself heating up nonetheless.

“Teach you to make such a big fuss,” Jaskier muttered. “And to make such a big mess!”

“Jaskier--”

But Geralt’s protests were cut off by Jaskier scrubbing the brush under his toes, the bristles sneaking between them to torment the sensitive skin. All of Geralt’s focus went to trying not to screech, aside from a small portion that went toward trying not to hurt Jaskier as he struggled to take his leg back, kicking gently to get Jaskier to release him.

And, to his surprise, Jaskier did. Geralt’s foot splashed back into the tub, and his laughter tapered off into embarrassed chuckles. He still refused to look up out of his hands.

“Who knew,” Jaskier laughed. “Even witchers can be adorable!” He gave Geralt a wry look as he reached into the bath for Geralt’s other ankle. “Well, I already knew, of course. Can’t hide anything from the eyes of a bard.”

“Can hide plenty,” Geralt bit out, splashing Jaskier to try and convince him to leave his feet  _ alone _ .

Jaskier gasped, affronted, and wrenched Geralt’s foot out of the water. He lifted the brush threateningly and Geralt froze.

“Couldn’t hide this,” he replied cheekily.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said. “Put the brush down.”

“And how are you planning to make me, Giggles?”

The brush scrubbed harshly against the arch of Geralt foot and he jerked, sloshing bathwater onto the floor once more. He gripped the sides of the tub as he cackled as quietly as he could, hoping the rest of the inn couldn’t hear him. 

“You really ought to smile more,” Jaskier said. “It suits you, makes your face less harsh.”

Geralt didn’t bother trying to reply, he simply lifted his free foot out of the bath and tried to shove Jaskier’s hand away at the very least, if not shove him away entirely. He was unsuccessful, snorting as Jaskier took a brief detour to his heel to scrub it clean before moving back up toward his toes.

Enough was enough, Geralt decided as he swallowed another mirthful screech. He tugged  _ hard _ , pulling Jaskier down into his murky,  _ smelly _ , lukewarm bathwater. Jaskier surfaced as Geralt caught his breath (quickly, thanks to his mutagens), sputtering and slicking his hair out of his face. His chemise was so soaked that it had become transparent, and the scrub brush had thankfully been lost in the tub.

Jaskier wrinkled his nose. “Well, now  _ I _ need a bath. And you still reek, you could use a second one.”

“I was swimming in the sewers.”

“I’d like to suggest a new rule,” Jaskier said, hands searching the bottom of the tub. “No more taking jobs in  _ sewers _ and  _ trash heaps _ .”

Geralt shrugged, catching Jaskier’s wrist with inhuman speed as his hand shot forward, scrub brush raised threateningly. “Never said being a witcher was clean work. Or that it smelled nice.”

Jaskier grumbled and dropped his hand. “Fine, I’ll call for a second bath. Hand me that towel over there, will you, dear heart?”

Geralt sighed and reached up and behind his head to tug the towel off it’s hook. Of course, he should have learned by now not to let his guard down around Jaskier, as there was suddenly a terribly ticklish scrubbing against his armpit and upper ribs. 

Geralt cried out, the laughter practically startled out of him, and yanked his arm back down to guard the sensitive spot. Jaskier was laughing in the bath across from him, and Geralt had to resist the urge to dunk him back under the water.

“Go call for the new bath,” he growled, reaching for the towel much more carefully. “We’ll see who’s laughing then. Maybe I’ll decide  _ you _ need some help cleaning yourself, next.”

Jaskier cleared his throat, cheeks going pink as he clambered out of the tub. “Right. I--I will go and do that, then.”

Geralt smirked and watched him go. Revenge would be  _ sweet _ .

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed!! You can find me on tumblr at august-anon, come say hi and hang out!


End file.
